


New You, Same Us

by Ryuutchi



Category: Power Rangers S.P.D.
Genre: Emotional Constipation, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, affectionately antagonistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuutchi/pseuds/Ryuutchi
Summary: There were few things that Jack knew with unshakeable confidence: the sun would rise, the world would turn, and Schuyler Tate was obnoxious before coffee.And he kind of liked it that way.
Relationships: Jack Landors/Sky Tate
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	New You, Same Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GloriousGoblinQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriousGoblinQueen/gifts).



> Thank you to the ChocoMods for running the exchange, and to the Zeb for sitting through my SPD marathon and then helping me craft this into something sweet.
> 
> There's a brief mention of Sky having scars, a character note taken from the graphic novel _Power Rangers: Soul of the Dragon_.

The mid-morning sun streamed down into the kitchen, illuminating the space in golden light, and Jack leaned against the counter, breathing in the smell of percolating coffee. The drip was slow and steady, a distinct counterpoint to the shower running in the bedroom. In his minds eye, Jack watched Sky get himself carefully together-- rolling out of bed, brushing his teeth, pulling out neatly folded clothes that he left at Jack’s for ‘emergencies’. At this point, Jack could count out the seconds until Sky made his first, grouchy appearance.

There were few things that Jack knew with unshakeable confidence: the sun would rise, the world would turn, and Schuyler Tate was obnoxious before coffee.

He pulled out a chipped mug hand-painted in garish red and set it on the counter next to the coffee pot as Sky shuffled out of the bedroom, long lashes lowered in a sleepy glare. When he pinned it on Jack, the other man just shrugged broadly and stepped out of the way for Sky to pour himself a mug and immediately take a a long swallow, seemingly immune to burned tastebuds.

“G’morning,” Jack said, not stifling a smile when he recieved only a garbled sound of acknowledgment in response. He fixed himself a mug too (cream _and_ sugar, thank you), and sipped it to taste before tidying up.

“Sometimes I wish I could just stop,” Sky said into his coffee.

Jack froze, head tilting to the side like one of Syd’s adorable and perpetually bewildered teacup Pomeranians. The hitch in his movement was momentary, and he set the coffee pot back in its cradle before turning to look at the man sitting at his breakfast table. “What with me?”

“No. Just. work.”

“Did I hear you correctly? The great Schuyler Tate-- Deka Ranger, the Earth Commander of Space Patrol Delta, latest in a long line of illustrious Rangers-- wants to quit? Did you get possessed again-- wait, no, I know you weren’t possessed last night.”

Sky groaned and dropped his head, staring intently into the black dregs of his mug. He appeared to have drained it in the half a minute Jack had his back turned. “No, I don’t want to--“ His voice cracked. “I’m tired, Jack.” He shoved the mug to the side, and pillowed his face in his arms. The movement caused the tight black uniform undershirt to stretch over his muscles, and Jack jerked his eyes away from the way Sky’s biceps flexed. 

(In the back of his head, he could hear Ally’s chiding ‘you’ll never get over them until you want to get over them’, but that was a perennial argument he wouldn’t revisit while Sky was here) 

“Mm-hmm,” Jack said, trying to sound noncommital. “Want some more coffee?” 

“This isn’t really a fix-it-with-a-caffiene-overdose kinda thing, I’m guessing.” Sky sounded a little like Bridge-- distracted and fuzzy around the edges-- but nodded without picking his face up from his arms. 

Jack poured Sky another mug of coffee. The piles of pancakes and waffles he’d made that morning had been decimated earlier by a crop of kids that used Jack’s place as a crash pad, but he set out a couple pieces of toast, buttered lightly with jam the way Sky preferred, before pulling up a chair.

Sky turned his head so his cheek rested on one arm and he could look up at Jack. It was the sort of expression that made Jack’s heart and stomach clench. Sky still looked like the impossibly bratty stick-up-his-ass teen Jack knew, but there were shadows under his eyes, creases around his mouth, and the blonde stubble was long enough to begin showing. And the scars. Jack’s eyes traced the ragged cuts-- the obvious one that ran over his right eye and curved down his cheek, and the smaller ones on his forearms and the backs of his hands from sparks of blaster fire. 

“Eat something. Put the food stuff in your face. It’ll make you feel better,” Jack said, and shoved the toast closer to Sky. Jack never wanted to ask about the scars-- there were too many of them. A building would explode, the Power Rangers would disappear for a week, and the next thing Jack knew, Sky and the rest of the Rangers would come by for coffee bearing new scars they never explained. 

(After the n-th time they disappeared on him for shady Power Ranger reasons, Jack bought flowers for Ally in appreciation for not kicking his ass harder when he canceled on her for shady Power Ranger reasons.)

Sky’s eyes closed and he visibly pulled himself together, one breath in and then let out a beat longer-- a meditative pattern the academy had drilled into both of them. He sat up and reached for his coffee mug. “You got out clean."

“Not as many attachments,” Jack said, shrugging one shoulder. He watched Sky cradle the refilled mug without drinking. “It was Z. And you guys, I guess.” It wasn’t as clean a break as he should have made. He could have stuck to contacting Z-- no one would begrudge him his sister. But Sky and Syd and Bridge-- that was different. They were SPD through and through. People that he once thought he’d have no problem excising from his life (all cops are bastards) that he still invited over for meals. 

Sky snorted a half-laugh, the pale scar tissue on his cheek wrinkled in a way that made him look alarmingly boyish. “Yeah, that’s right. Maybe it was easier.” Sky seemed to realize what he’d said the same moment Jack’s eyebrows jumped. He clamped his mouth shut in an utterly typical display of Tate inability to vocalize his emotions. Jack felt his face heat up and he stared down into the depths of his overly-sweet coffee.

They sat in silence, the soft sounds of the house settling into the quiet between them. Jack felt, more than saw, Sky’s tension ratchet up higher and he sighed into his cup. He breathed through the sting of insult, pulling in air through his nose and letting it out slowly through his mouth.

“Maybe it is,” Jack said, a little surprised by the way the words felt in his mouth. Growing up the way he and Z did wasn’t easy-- it wasn’t any easier than the demands of the Academy, certainly. “I’m not the one threatening to run away and become a hermit in the woods.” For lack of anything better to do, he grabbed one of the pieces of Sky’s toast and took a bite, ignoring the soft sound of dismay from the blond. “Probably because I can go on the occasional vacation.” 

With an irritated sound low in his throat Sky pulled the plate closer to him, finally caffeinated enough to keep down actual food and protective of his breakfast. There was another pause while Sky methodically ate a piece of toast and wiped his fingers on a paper towel off the roll Jack left on the table. He picked up another one, but instead of eating, glanced sidelong at Jack. “Yeah, I guess I miss it when I’m doing other things.” Pink rose in his cheeks when he finished his sentence and Jack was slapped with the double entendre.

Jack made a face and stood. “Okay, that’s it, get out.” 

Sky’s lips twitched up and he took another drink of coffee, hiding his expression behind the ceramic.

Jack grabbed him by the back of the head, leaning against the table with the other hand and bent over to slot his lips against Sky’s in a slow, brief kiss. “Go on, then. Go catch bad guys. I’ll kick your ass if you arrest someone who doesn’t deserve it. If you get sick of it, you know where I’ll be.”

“On a vacation. Gone fishing, I know.” Sky stood, his hand dropping to to Jack’s waist. 

Jack laughed, leaning into the touch. “The only fishing I do is for compliments.”

Sky squeezed his waist gently before withdrawing. “In that case, Jack Landors, you,” Sky paused, brow creasing in thought, “are an exquisite pain in my ass.” They parted and Jack took the final opportunity to swat his palm against the slight curve of Sky’s hip, making the other man jump. Sky grimaced, but there was fondness in his eyes. “But at least I’m awake enough to drive. Thanks.”

“Say nothing of it.” Jack waved it off to see Sky out the door with one more brief kiss.

With the door latched behind Sky, Jack hummed and went to go look up where the fish were biting.


End file.
